


A Story of Love

by ella_beth22



Category: Voltron - Fandom, vld - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Moulin Rouge! Fusion, Langst, M/M, klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:50:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ella_beth22/pseuds/ella_beth22
Summary: Keith Kogane is a young writer that travelled to an underworld known as the Moulin Rouge.Lance McClain is the Sparkling Diamond f the Moulin Rouge that all men love.Watch how 'Spectacular, Spectacular' brings the two together and a romance blossom only to die.





	A Story of Love

This is a story about love.  
The man that I love is dead. He was the most beautiful courtesan in all of Paris. He sold his love to men. Men who came in their hundreds to gaze upon him. Men who would happily pay for his love.  
They called him Lance. The Sparkling Diamond. He was the star of the Moulin Rouge. A nightclub. A dance hall and a bordello. Ruled over by Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, a peculiar man. He created a kingdom of pleasure of the night, where only the rich and powerful came to enjoy young, beautiful creatures of the underworld.  
I first came to Paris one year ago, during the summer of love! I knew nothing of the Moulin Rouge, of Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, the world that had been swept by the bohemian revolution…of Lance.  
On a hill near Paris was the village of Montmartre. It was not as my father had said – “a village of sin!” but was the centre of the bohemian world. The musicians, painters, writers were known as ‘The Children of the Revolution’. Yes, I had come to live a penniless existence, I had come to write about the truth, beauty, freedom and above all, love. My father said that love was a ridiculous obsession but I knew he was wrong. But there was one problem…  
I’d never been in love!  
Luckily, in that moment, an unconscious Samoan fell through my apartment roof. The door slammed open and he was quickly joined by a girl dressed as a nun. She introduced herself as Katie Holt yet wished to be called Pidge. Although confusion had overtook my being, pidge began to explain the reason behind the commotion. “I’m terribly sorry about all this. We were just upstairs rehearsing a play.” This play was something very modern called ‘Spectacular, Spectacular’. “and it’s set in Switzerland”  
“Perfectly fine one moment and then suddenly,” a loud snore interrupted the silence of the room. “Unconscious the next.” From where the large man had fallen, a voice range below to us, asking how the man was. Upon further inspection, a woman of beauty known as Allura and a man with tremendous scars called Shiro looked down to see how the situation was going. A voiced cried out of frustration “Wonderful! Now the narcoleptic Samoan is unconscious!” Who this man was, I did not know but it’s easy to say he did not stick around. Yet their misfortune was spoken aloud by him. “The Scenario will not be finished in time to present to the financier tomorrow!”.  
Allura looked down with sadness overtaking her face, admitting that the music still needed to be written. Yet, when looking back to pidge a smug smile had over taken her face and said aloud “find someone to read the part.” Which caused the man to send another wave of complaints of finding someone to read the part of a young, sensitive Swiss poet/goatherder.  
And in a flash of a moment, I found myself in the studio above, standing in for the unconscious Samoan. Perched on a ladder with a mountain back drop I sat and over saw the ruckus that begun. A screech came from Pidge as Allura began to play. “THE HILLS ANIMATE WITH THE EUPHONIOUS SYMPHONIES OF DESCANT.” But again, the unknown man cried stop of the “insufferable droning.”  
Then the artistic differences began clashing as ideas where thrown around.  
“The hills are vital, intoning the descant?”  
“No, no, The hills quake and shake—”  
“No, no, no, no, the hills—"  
“The hills are incarnate with symphonic melodies!”  
A silence had lied across the room as everyone starred at the Samoan man, also known as Hunk, watching him gain consciousness yet falling back unconscious in seconds. The ruckus begun again. Throughout all suggested lyrics, I had thought of my own, yet with all the squabbling the only way to announce my idea was to shout the loudest level my voice would allow.  
“THE HILLS ARE ALIVE WITH THE SOUND OF MUSIC”  
The silence lied across the room again and Hunk awoke again. “the hills are alive with the sound of music! I love it!”. A sense of relief was sent throughout my body. Then all those in the studio sang along. Allura had to agree, it fitted perfectly. Then all looking towards me as if asking to produce more. I belt out another set of lyrics.  
“WITH SONGS THEY HAVE SUNG FOR A THOUSAND YEARS”  
Gasping, Pidge turned to the unknown man “Incandiferous! You two should write the show together!”. And this is when the unknown man left, disgusted at the idea of us working together. A loud goodbye was heard as he slammed the door on his way out.  
But now I had my first job in Paris as the writer of ‘Spectacular, Spectacular.’  
Yet Allura took doubt on me having I had never written a play. Yet Hunk seemed to see a talent. Pidge was convinced I could write the truly write the bohemian revolutionary show they dreamt of. And to contribute to Pidges plan of getting Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe to host the play was through Lance.  
They dressed me in Hunks best suit and passed me off as a famous English Writer. Once Lance had heard my modern poetry, he would be astounded and insist to Coran that I write ‘Spectacular, Spectacular’. Yet as we went along with the plan, my fathers’ voice range in my head.  
“You’ll end up wasting your time at the Moulin Rouge with a cancan dancer!”  
Running for the hole in the floor that Hunk had made earlier, I decided that I couldn’t write a show for the Moulin Rouge! I didn’t even know if I was a true bohemian revolutionary! Before escaping, pidge asked “do you believe in beauty?” I shake my head yes. Hunk joined “do you believe in Freedom?” Of course I did. Shiro piped up, “Truth?” another shake of my head. Then Allura came along and asked the most important factor. “Love?” Over whelmed with my obsession of love, I spoke.  
“Love? Love. Above all things, I believe in Love. Love is like oxygen, love is a many-splendored thing, love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love!” The passion I had contained for love had shown and those who asked looked at me as if I spoke like a God. Shiro gave a hearty laugh, “you can’t fool us. You’re the voice of the children of the revolution!”  
At toast was held for I was the worlds’ first bohemian revolutionary show! This was when I had my first taste of… absinthe. We all drank to Beauty, Freedom, Truth and Love!

**Author's Note:**

> hope you guys enjoyed!  
> hmu on tumblr at princess-of-neptune


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